by Robert Lloyd Jaffe
I keep finding the best books
Lying on the floor and end-tables
Around the neatly organized shelves
Of the library and bookstore.
Someone has grabbed each one
Looked with a pensive blank stare
And dropped it--not where they found it--
But in front of me, to pick up
After them.
There is something sacred
About leafing through another's garbage;
Now that I think of it
My most cherished finds
In an ancient brook
Have been picked from the piles of stones
That others have sifted through
And blindly looked past
Those million-year-old rocks
Missing the delicate ammonite
Hiding in the open.
There is great value
In having a blind man
Do your digging for you.
- Share this Poem:
ABOUT THE POET ~
I am an observer and listener of the music of life. Where I find cadence, I find my interest and passion directed. It can be sound, light, smell, or purely an experience of thought. The sky, the sea, the mountains, and the machines that allow me to explore those places draw my attention, and give me serenity.
Last updated November 21, 2021